is for the simple need
by kabensi
Summary: Quinn makes a purchase after Rachel brings up the fact that she's interested in a little something extra in the bedroom. Same universe as Without You Is How I Disappear.


"I can't believe you're even asking me this."

"It's not like you're shy about this kind of stuff."

"No, Virgin Quinnie, I mean the part where you haven't tried this, already. You and Broadway have been dating for what, two years?"

"We just haven't... I guess we were just content with... the other stuff." Quinn's walking down Seventh Avenue and she glares at a family of tourists that have stopped, dead center, in the middle of the sidewalk. "When was the first time you... tried it?"

"A strap-on?" Santana's amusement is apparent through Quinn's earbuds. "Junior year."

"How'd you even get into the sex shop? Even Puck used to get kicked out of there and he always had the best fake IDs."

"Jesus, how are you possibly still this technologically stunted? I ordered it online."

"Oh." Quinn stops to wait for the cross traffic at 16th street. "Should I do that?"

"Do you want to wait seven to ten days to see what all the fuss is about?"

"Not particularly." It's already been two days since Rachel casually mentioned that she wanted to expand their sexual horizons and she's left it up to Quinn to secure what they've discussed. It's not that Rachel doesn't have a dozen websites bookmarked, but she's been adamant about wanting Quinn to feel comfortable taking the lead in this situation and Quinn... well, Quinn's still trying to wrap her mind around it. Because, whenever she thinks about it, she just starts daydreaming and that's led to her completely missing her subway stop twice, already.

"Then buy a damn dildo, already. Do you even know where the place is?"

"I've been there before. I'm not completely inexperienced. In fact, one of the reasons we haven't even talked about this until recently is because Rachel's really kind of amazing at sciss-"

"Shut your damn mouth, because I don't need to hear all the dirty details about my best friends mashing cats."

"You and Britt used to practically do that shit in front of me."

"That's different. You were into it."

"Fuck you."

"See? You still want me."

"Do you have an serious recommendations or not?"

"Did you and the little lady talk about any of this?"

"She gave me size specifications, but that's it."

"How big does she want you?"

"Shut up."

"Okay," there's a pause before Santana continues. "You're going to be drawn to the Rodeohs, because they're really cute and, in theory, they're brilliant. But the design is a little flawed, so want to look at the Tombois, instead. They're basically the same thing, just better, in practice."

"And these are..."

"Harnesses. For, you know, the junk. But they look like underwear, so they don't have buckles and crap. Trust me, you're not going to want to fuck around with anything that requires extra dexterity, because you're already going to be a wreck."

"I'm not a sixteen year old boy."

"Good thing, too. Because then you'd totally have a hard-on, all the time, the way your girlfriend parades around in those skirts."

"Did you have anything else about the... advice I was asking for?"

"I would say a good water based lubricant, but ever since I got that accidental sext, I know that's not necess-"

Quinn still remembers the look on Rachel's face the day she came home asking why Quinn hadn't replied to her text from earlier that afternoon. The one that said, 'I'm sitting in scene study and it's hard to concentrate on anything because I'm still incredibly wet from what you said this morning.'

"- Bye, Santana."

Quinn's in and out of The Pleasure Chest in ten minutes, leaving with a discreet black bag, but inside is a red and black Tomboi harness that looks just like a pair of boy briefs which has been guaranteed to work perfectly with the blue six inch silicon dildo that's also in the bag. The train ride to Brooklyn feels excruciatingly longer than usual and once she's climbing the stairs to Rachel's loft, she's positive she's going to rip her girlfriend's clothes off at first sight, because she's so turned on by the idea of all of this. Thank god that Kurt's in Lima for the week, because she's convinced she's going to want to fuck Rachel on just about every available surface of the apartment.

"Rach?" she asks as she enters the space.

"Hey!" comes her girlfriend's voice from across the room. Rachel's in the kitchen, leaning forward with her arms resting on the counter as she looks at what's probably a cookbook, because she's always trying to learn new skills and to bolster her resume. She also has 'compete in a celebrity chef competition' on her bucket list. "How was shopping?" she inquires, looking at Quinn over her shoulder. This has got to be planned. There's no way this posture in that skirt, with those legs, is an accident. Not with what's on the agenda for the evening.

"It was..." Quinn's voice almost cracks. "Fine." Even from across the loft, Quinn can clearly see Rachel's tongue dart over her lips. "I'm... I'll be right back."

She heads right for the bathroom, because she's pretty sure she's supposed to wash this thing before, you know, using it. But she has no idea how her brain is even working with any kind of linear logic. Whatever the case, everything is on and in place in under five minutes, but she isn't sure what Rachel will do if she just walks out there like this, so she pulls her jeans back on and carefully tucks the strap-on to the right as she zips up the fly. And... she immediately hopes these pants don't stay on very long because she suddenly feels like the aroused sixteen year-old version of herself Santana suggested earlier.

Rachel's right where she left her, bent over with her perfect ass in view from twenty feet away. Quinn knows Rachel heard the door open, because her back arches and she's bending even further, if that's possible. The fact that Rachel's in her bulky slippers doesn't even dare to detract from the sexiness of what's happening.

There's nothing to say, really. Quinn just walks over to the kitchen space and glides her hands over Rachel's hips.

"Well, hi." Rachel straightens up to lean back against Quinn. "I was won-" She draws in a sharp breath as she makes contact with the bulge in Quinn's pants. "Oh. So, you're..."

"Mmmhmm." Quinn's arms wrap around Rachel's waist and her lips busy themselves against the bare skin of Rachel's neck.

"Where did you want to..." Rachel's back is now firmly pressed against Quinn's front and her hands grope until she's gripping Quinn's ass, keeping them together. "... start?"

"Do we think the kitchen's too advanced?"

"Is that where we are, right now?" Rachel asks, her breathing already laced with light moans as Quinn continues to kiss her neck.

"Yes," Quinn murmurs, her hands making a direct path upward to Rachel's breasts, cupping them through the purple Wicked t-shirt.

"Then, I don't think it's too advanced." Rachel shakes her head, then that becomes a frantic nod as she says, "I think it's just right."

Quinn agrees. To hell with starting out in the bedroom, they're here now. Her mouth traces the shell of Rachel's ear and she barely even breathes the words, "turn around," but Rachel honest-to-god groans and whips around so fast she has to grip Quinn's arms to steady herself. But they only stay there for a moment, because then she's cupping Quinn's face and pulling her in for a kiss that's mostly tongue and a little teeth, including that particular nibble on Quinn's bottom lip that makes her absolutely crazy. In this case, it leads to Rachel being pinned against the counter as Quinn grinds against her, the base of the strap on pressing against Quinn enough to make her eyes shut for a moment.

When she opens them, Rachel's looking up at her through coy lashes, lip between her teeth, and then there's more friction as that little black skirt hikes up, just a touch, as she rocks against the added firmness in Quinn's jeans.

That lasts maybe a minute and then Rachel's tugging at the button and zipper and once the pants are open, the dildo is right there, like a perpetual hard-on.

The hem of Rachel's skirt slips even higher, this time, because Quinn's hands are now underneath the fabric, fingers ready to remove whatever undergarments are in her way. Except there aren't any.

Fucking Rachel.

"They were logistically excessive," Rachel says, smirking at the surprised look on Quinn's face.

Quinn can't resist shaking her head and saying, "I love you."

"I can tell," Rachel replies, wrapping her hand around the erect six inches between them and giving the shaft a stroke. There's a smug smile on her lips, but it softens as she says, "I love you, too." And then her other hand has a handful of Quinn's hair as she pulls her down for another aggressive kiss. "Which is why I'm going to turn around and you're going to make me come all over your big," there's a tug on the dildo, "hard," and another, "cock."

"Fuck, Rachel..." Quinn's vision actually blurs because she's so turned on, right now. There's one more kiss, one that had Rachel groaning into Quinn's mouth as Quinn rolls a pert nipple between her fingers, then Rachel's spinning back around, leaving her pinned between the counter and Quinn.

The Wicked shirt is already halfway up Rachel's torso and Rachel takes it upon herself to fully remove it, which drives Quinn to want to kiss her bare shoulders as her hands bunch Rachel's skirt up around her waist. Quinn's jeans are down around her ankles and she's kicking them aside so she can figure out the best approach to what they're doing. She takes a step backward and guides Rachel's hips back from the counter and they're in practically the same position they were when Quinn first came out of the bathroom.

And, just like she did when Quinn showed up at the apartment, Rachel peers at her over her shoulder as she rests on her arms. "Please, baby. I've been thinking about this all day."

All day. Rachel's been thinking about this.

Quinn grips the base of the strap-on with one hand as she smooths the other over Rachel's back. "You're so sexy, Rach." She knows her girlfriend is waiting, and who is she kidding, she's been wanting this exact moment this ever since the topic came up. She carefully nudges the tip of the dildo against Rachel's wetness, which is so apparent, Quinn can see that Rachel's inner thighs are damp. "You sure?"

They've totally had sex up against this counter, before. Just not like this.

The look on Rachel's face is almost a pained one as she nods. Her body flexes, putting more pressure against Quinn and the strap-on and Quinn knows it's exactly the right time.

Quinn leans into Rachel, pushing the silicon cock forward, easing it into her girlfriend. Rachel's head drops forward and Quinn hears a drawn out groan. Once the backs of Rachel's thighs are flush against the front of her own, Quinn wraps an arm around Rachel and presses kisses to the back of Rachel's shoulder until the shorter woman's hips roll forward, then ease back. Quinn still has one hand on Rachel's back, the other on Rachel's right hip, as they work together to find a rhythm.

"Quinn..."

"Hmm?"

Rachel doesn't say anything else, she just reaches back with her right hand to cover the one that's on her hip.

Their movement increases and Quinn's hand moves from Rachel's back to the edge of the counter, so she can brace herself. Rachel's hand moves from her own hip to down between her legs and Quinn knows that's a sign that round one might be over soon. She's not sure if she'll come from what she's doing, but when Rachel's hips become more erratic in their motion Quinn finds herself breathing more heavily and when Rachel whines, "I'm... Quinn, I'm coming... I'm coming..." it's actually enough to make Quinn shudder and thrust involuntarily, which causes Rachel to squeal and slap her hand against the counter top.

Quinn wants to feel, well, cocky about what's just occurred, but she's mostly euphoric as she pulls out of Rachel and wraps both arms around her. "Let me know when you're ready to go, again."

Rachel pushes herself upright, wrapping her hand around Quinn's and immediately pulling her toward the couch. At this point, Quinn has no qualms about walking around the loft with six inches of blue silicon bouncing between her legs. They collapse onto the sofa in a tangled heap, with Rachel on top of Quinn, their legs entwined, the strap-on sandwiched between them.

"Give me five minutes and then I want to try some of the positions I looked up on my sex app." Rachel's face is buried between Quinn's neck and shoulder, but Quinn hears every word.

"You downloaded a sex app?"

"I wanted to be prepared."

"Baby, we don't need an app."

"We don't _need_a strap-on, either, but look how that worked out."

"Don't you mean, my big hard cock?"

"You loved every second of that."

"Maybe. But so did you."

Rachel hums in agreement and kisses Quinn's jawline.

In a few minutes, Quinn's going to ask just what so interesting about this sex app, but she's positive she should take advantage of whatever rest she can get in the moment, because neither of them are sleeping tonight.


End file.
